The Bettin' Man: Goes For A Joyride
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: It's not the end just because you're dead. Or resurrected. Or...whatever it is when you're living in a state between not-undeath and not-life. (Or, Varian gets to do whatever he wants in his next life. Or whatever this is.)[Varian/Junkrat crackship]


**Notes1:** I got burned out from juggling both school and work, so while I ultimately chose my job due to focusing on some financial concerns at home I decided to ease my way back into playing _Heroes of the Storm_ after skipping (or, really, forgetting and then lazing about with not doing it) the Nexomania event and waffling around with Echoes of Alterac (in which I rolled Horde because I guess I love playing "evil" factions and I love, as the kids call it today, THICC wolves). I haven't really tried playing Deckard or Yrel, but reworked!Raynor is now a beast (I've yet to try reworked!Azmodan as of this post) to deal with and against.

Anyway, this story is based off an actual match I had. I decided to get back into Hero League after only doing a few matches last season. Normally I'm forced into support roles, but other than one game (as Uther) I managed to have five of them in as Varian (the other was Sylvanas, who broke my four straight losing streak). This was...the second promo game, IIRC, in which I was the main tank for a comp consisting of Junkrat, Brightwing, Illidan, and Diablo (we were against a team of Li Li/Jaina/Johanna/Azmodan/Falstad). It was after the usual battle-at-mid brawl that happens right out the game of every game did I hearth back and lead with Junkrat up into top lane to meet up against the enemy Azmo.

Then this happened:

Junkrat: "let me top varian"  
Me: "roger that"  
Brightwing: "let me power bottom :O"  
Me: "don't give me ideas"  
Brightwing: "o baby"

Needless to say, we lost that match by a massive landslide, but it got me to write this because why not. I remembering having one yaoi drabble up here in Ye Olde Past when I was a teenager...but I didn't really like it and took it down (it was this really weird _Sonic the Hedgehog_ , Shadow/Mephiles selfcest thing that involved a mirror...? I dunno, I still come up with weird shit even now being two-three years being Paxil-free). But my thoughts on yaoi are just as long - but nowhere near as long - as my thoughts on yuri ( _First Impressions_ being a big reason why it's both fond of but also highly critical of the genre), so I'll save those for another time.

(Now as to whether or not this has anything to _do_ with _First Impressions_...well, that's a fanfic that strongarms the topic of quantum mechanics and the many-universe theory around like sacks of grain, so I think this is nebulous enough that it could go either/both ways.)

* * *

"Ooh, so you can go top, eh?" Junkrat laughs, and practically snatches the elongated lump straining in Varian's pants.

The former King of Stormwind winces. "H-How did you think Anduin was made?" he grunts, and boy, Tiff would have _gut him_ if she heard him say that. Not one time, but twice: once in shock, and once more in pure, unfiltered embarrassment that, well, he's not _wrong_.

"I'll say!" He gives the man's cock a few tentative squeezes. "Crikey, mate! Talk about a gold mine! You're keeping out on ev'ryone!"

"I'm not loose like you," Varian grunts, and involuntarily—or maybe voluntarily; he won't be able to tell when he's walking down Dragon Shire's streets tomorrow afternoon—rolls his hips into Junkrat's palm. That gets the blood going, bungee-jumping from the triphammer pulse in his head down all the way to his heavy, aching ball sack. "No offense. Take it however you want."

"None taken! Say," Junkrat says, curiously, and the face he wears is the most calm Varian's ever seen on him. He might be the only person, barring Roadhog and any law enforcement officer foolish enough to keep his guard down, who has. "Would bangin' ya make me a necrophiliac?"

Varian draws back. "What? No, that doesn't make you—Actually...that's a very good question." He looks away, suddenly aware he's shirtless, cold (due to the opened window letting in the autumn air, but that won't last long with the way things are going), and twice James's weight that if he loses his grip on the bed sheets he's going to crush the guy like a twig.

(But that's beside the point.)

"Well, you _are_ dead, aintcha?"

"I am...but my body's _gone_. And yet my spirit is _here_ , coalesced into a physical form. But I'm not undead, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't reincarnated because I remember _when_ I died and _how_ I died...Oh! And I couldn't have skipped my informative years because I remember those, too. So…." Varian shrugs helplessly. "What do you think? Could I just be one of many Nexian souls caught in the limbo between death and rebirth?"

Junkrat grins hungrily and gives his erection another loving stroke that's more firm than gentle this time. "Look alive enough f'r me, if'n I do say so m'self! Little Vee here thinks so, too!" He takes the shape of it in his hand, hard, and drags it down once in a pumping motion. Varian squeaks, high and mousy, and blushes bright red when James cackles. "Aw, ain't that sweet! Bet I can make you say more'n that!"

Varian manages to lodge a knee between James's thighs. "J-Just try me! I have all of eternity to spend to test your resolve."

"Maybe," James says, hooking his fingers into the hem of the man's slacks, "but I'm stuck here for the time being, so 'ey, it's kinda like an eternity, yeah? Now don't gimme that look! There ain't no time for that." He adds at the aborted protest that would've come from Varian's lips. "Let's have fun, 'kay? 'Kay! 'Ere we go, that's more like it!" And with that statement, he starts shucking the fabric down.


End file.
